The Troubles and Tribulations of Brinden: 2, Clumsy Footing
by ImperialsArePossesive
Summary: Emilia gets the first impressions of her nation. Unprepared and foolish, she makes a total idiot of herself. After an intense session of planning, Emilia is able to overcome boundaries already. Yet her father's adviser is becoming more and more of a pain...


As the ship lowered its anchor at the shore, the situation of Brinden was quite apparent. A make-shift dock, seeming hastily constructed, served as the only means of getting out of the ship. It had been a long journey, 2 weeks at sea, trying to look professional while being nauseous. The blood red dawn seemed to slowly seep into the white fog the Bivv Sea provided. The department from the bowels of the ship felt liberating. Sure the princess walked around the deck for a little, but not more than an hour. That would be not right argued Javon. Immediately the heat and humidity of the bat hit her; it made the uncomfortable summer of Knandle seem like a wonderful cool evening. The air seemed so dense; the waves seemed unable to move with the weight of the sky. Her lace dress became sticky; the back of her neck was wet.

The only person to greet the future ruler was an old sea captain with a strong accent and an even stronger smell of liquor on his breathe. He wobbled when spoke and his hand had a visible tremor.

"Top of the mornin' to ya m' lady." Kindly spoke the sailor. Emilia pleasantly bowed in courtesy, but Javon gave a sour sneer to the old man that referred to the duchess with a lower title.

The dock wasn't the only thing that looked like it was made that morning. What looked like random stones over a dirt path lead the princess to the main market. This "main road" was dotted with small huts with red faced farmers and their large families in an awkward line smiling at Emilia and her royal court. Yet the atmosphere was cold even when the air was so hot. It was a feeling of fear rather than celebration. Emilia considered if Javon had something to do with this "tour" of Brinden. He did act unsatisfied by the old man's actions a while back, if he was harassing an entire population as a formality she would be quite cross.

The families were dressed in a humorous fashion: they're legs were wrapped by blankets and towels, evidently hiding the fact that there was mud on their work trousers. The children wore badly tailored aristocrat garb, with leggings and a thick coats used for the winters of Knandle. Women's faces were patted with what seemed like a thick paste of fermented milk in order to make foundation as make-up. They're lips were covered in tree sap dyed red. They looked like male cross dressers with their horribly white faces and badly applied lip stick. Why were these people trying to impress her? A man in a full cloak approached the princess. He began a loud and unnecessary religious ceremony in commemoration of the duchess's arrival. Emilia knew the prayer; expect the so-called priest got about half of it correct, the other half he made up. There were bouquets of flowers decorating the entire town. Ribbon and cheap, badly made silk surrounded the thatched roofs. "Were you responsible for this whole 'grand opening'?" Emilia whispered with a smile on her face to Javon who stood behind her ear.

"A people must know how to respect their ruler." Javon responded very matter-of-factly.

"How is looking like cross-dressers showing respect Javon, they look like fools." Emilia scolded, still in a smile so her clown-looking fans would not notice.

Finally the winding road made its way to a somewhat town square, which was more like a grouping of merchant stalls and a town well that overlooked the river where everyone drank from, dispose their bodily wastes, and bathed from. She could tell all of this information by just smell. In the middle of the stalls stood a platform slightly higher than the ground. The platform was clearly a modified gallows: there were fragments of bone and blood plainly visible on the stairs. Javon, all of a sudden on the platform before Emilia, motioned for her to give an address. With nothing prepared, she soon began to panic, and as more and more of the strange civilians gathered around the refurbished gallows, Emilia began to feel cold, even though she was in at least 100 degree weather. She grabbed hold of the podium tightly, like if she didn't she would be carried away. "…My people," she clumsily stated, feeling regret over the use of words. Javon motioned for her to be louder, only then did she realize she was only speaking above a whisper.

"People of Brinden," she began, wary but more confident. "I hope to organize this land that has caused you so much misfortune. You maybe scared, you may be angry, just know that Knandle hears your cries." Then, with nothing left to say, almost by instinct, she began to say the Knandilian salute. Javon and her servants were confused, and the look they made to her only made her more anxious and louder. The people below her were confused as well. They, never have been in contact with Knandle except for the necessary trade exports, never heard the salute. The loyal farmers below her all tried to follow her lead, singing in mumbles and just hesitantly guessing on words. It was quite the comedic sight to see. Javon, furious with the situation, interrupted the salute and forcefully took Emilia away, before ordering everyone to return to their duties and that future plans will be stated before the end of the week. Everyone left the center with rumbles of confusion and children giggling.

"What is happening to you?!" Javon asked in an unapologetically loud voice. The servants looked away.

"I…I don't know, I just…they were so patient, I wanted to comfort them."

"Well, you did the opposite, now they think we hired an idiot to teach them a Knandilian salute. Wait until the King hears of your screw-up, you'll be sent away immediately. How dare you compromise this operation!?" Immediately Father's face looked back at her. She gasped in fear. She proved to be a disappointment, she proved to be nothing but an airheaded princess who could do nothing but be married off. She felt like she wanted to scream.

"No, please don't tell Father, I want this so bad, I want to help these people! Just…give me a week, if you don't see improvements here in a week exchange me for one of those dukes. I just need to formulate a plan. I promise you will get results! Just, please Javon I'm only asking you this!" Emilia felt tears welling up in her eyes. Her face became swollen. She realized she was screaming, many of the people who had left returned with the commotion they heard. They looked at the spectacle with large eyes and snickering expressions. Emilia, embarrassed and dejected, left the town square with her head lowered in a somewhat sprint. She hid behind one of the small shanties that populated the village. Not knowing what to do with herself, she sat crisscross on the muddy floor. If Lady Rimaud would see her state, teary-eyed, hair in shambles, dirty dress, sweating profusely, she would be confounded. But Emilia just sat there, formulating a plan in her head for the next week. She was a learned girl in foreign policy, the best tutors of Knandle will do that. She was fluent in fifteen Nesburian languages, five of which no longer being used. Her grasp on law was excellent. She was a trained lute player, and her understanding of musical theory was superb. Economics came naturally to her, statistics and mathematics as well. She received the most recent knowledge on the world of medicine and biology, botany was her preferred field. But controlling a nation, diplomacy, war tactics, all were distant and foreign to her. Emilia, realizing this, established an essential list of things she would need:

1. Books, lots of books on this kind of stuff.

2. A general, a war veteran, someone who knew his way with a sword

3. A better advisor

4. The unshakable support of Brinden farmers

5. More time

6. a clean dress

And she finally breathed. It seemed like she had been drowning before that breathe. Her lungs opened, and though she was a mess, she was slightly more prepared then she was forty minutes ago in front of Javon.

Standing up, Emilia made her way to where the obvious base of operations would be. A giant wooden plank set above a large set of wooden doors with the words "GOVRMENTAL REGULASHON BULDING" in a bold red, all spent wrong. The building seemed to be an old prison, it was the tallest building in the village. It was made completely out of stone, with windows that were just holes in the wall with cast iron fences to protect people from falling out. When she entered, it was very badly lit, no matter the amount of touches Javon ordered to be placed. An even bigger clue that it was a prison was that it seemed as though the workers just broke the walls between cells to make a bigger room. The large structure was broken into three rooms and a large empty space that connected each room like a hallway. A bookcase stood in the leftmost room. A single bookcase. Emilia guessed that it would not be enough for the necessary information she needed to acquire on ruling. It smelled like coal everywhere.

Spotting Javon from the corner of her eye, she quickly sprinted to him. "Javon, I just wanted…"

"Good lord woman, you can't just be running around when you're that tall, I thought you were a thief." Slightly offended, Emilia shrugged it off. It wasn't the first time she was compared to a man.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to ask if you considered my proposal. One week, I promise…just don't tell. It will never happen again." Emilia pleaded. But the frail man looked at her and snickered in delight.

"Your father has been contacted, I won't let a girl ruin everything this beautiful nation stands for." Inspiringly, Javon took out a Knandilian flag that was in his pocket. He sniffed the piece of fabric, satisfied, he put it back.

"But…Javon please!"

"Apsolutly not, I have worked so hard under your father's administration, to see it crumble before my very eyes…" Javon's eyes opened in anger, he finally spoke to Emilia eye to eye, in pure rage.

"Javon," Emilia shouted. "I order you to leave. You are nothing but a burden to me here, you have done nothing but embarrassed civilians and make me have a breakdown. I want you off this colony now before I use my military power to have you hanged. Go to my father and bitch to him." Emilia caught herself. She had never had an outburst like that. It was also the first time she had used profanity. Javon, as surprised as Emilia, stood petrified.

"You…" he began to quiver. "You are an embarrassment to your father. I cannot wait to see you fail from the comfort of my own home."

"NOW, LEAVE NOW YOU PIG." Emilia heard herself say, no longer thinking clearly. Javon, scared by Emilia's height and fury, darted away to his servants, all whom were looking at the second screaming match of the day. After an hour, Javon prepared his wares, took two servants, and returned onto a ship that was taking back barley from the Colony to Knandle, all while saying the most disturbing things under his breathe. Emilia sighed, she had kicked out the only person who knew what the hell they were doing. She was profoundly upset at herself. What if Javon ruined her back in Knandle, would she be able to return? Would the operation seize because Leon didn't think she was stable anymore? Such thoughts raced through her mind. That day was also the first day she took a sip of liquor. It was to be only used as an anesthetic for any needed medical emergency. Emilia diagnosed the current situation as an emergency. Hey, she wondered, she was half-way to completing resolution number three on her list.


End file.
